


A Different Point of View

by chibi_nightowl



Series: Casebook of Detective Timothy Drake [4]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-07 14:03:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8803690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibi_nightowl/pseuds/chibi_nightowl
Summary: Side stories from the Cleansing, as told from the perspective of Gannon Malloy."Carrying a permit for that gun?" Gannon asked.The look Jason gave Gannon made it clear what the man thought of the question. "Sure," he replied, not really answering. "It's not Drake's, is it?"Jason snorted. "No, it's not. I'm a lot things but dumb enough to borrow my boyfriend's service weapon without him knowing is not one of them."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Janna (Ianna)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ianna/gifts).



> There was a comment in Chapter 7 of the Cleansing that inspired this particular piece. I didn't originally plan to explore other POV's in this 'verse aside from Tim's, but I kept wondering...what exactly did happen when Gannon and Jason hit the streets together while Tim was with Stephanie and Bruce in Chapter 7? I may add some other chapters to this as the main story progresses, but haven't decided yet. For now, this is marked as complete.
> 
> Janna, this is for you!

 

 _Takes place during Chapter 7 of the Cleansing…_

Gannon Malloy parked his car in front of his partner Tim Drake's apartment building. He pulled out his phone and sent a quick "I'm here" to the man he was here to pick up. Not his partner but rather his partner's boyfriend of a few weeks (and long time irregular) Jason. No last name, just Jason. 

The man intrigued Gannon, much like his own partner did. Jason was as Gotham as they came, streetwise and street-smart, but with a level of education about him that marked him as a step up (or six) from the streets he purported to be from. The Rookie didn't suffer fools or stupidity so the man had to be smart. The real question was how smart and why, with all the education Gannon suspected the man had, did he still live in the Bowery of all places? 

But those were thoughts for another time as Jason was helping him and Tim out tonight by acting as a greaser for some of the people he needed to speak with while Tim was living it up with the Wayne's tonight. And wasn't that a kicker? His partner was a former foster son of none other than Bruce Wayne, who's own adopted son was his former partner from Bludhaven, Dick Grayson. Small world. 

Gannon was distracted from his thoughts as Jason approached the car. The tall man was built as solid as they came. The man worked out as those arms, shoulders, and pecs, hell everything, were well defined. The man's thighs made him want to drool. He was jealous of Drake, that was no lie. Jason was a catch and one he wished he’d made, not that he would ever try to steal the other man’s boyfriend. He'd suspected for a while his partner batted for both teams and teased the daylights out of him when he saw the hickey he tried to hide the day after the car wash last month. 

He noticed Jason was walking a bit awkwardly as he took the few steps down from the entrance to the apartment building. Tim mentioned Jason had PT today but that limp seemed more pronounced than usual. He wasn't using his cane (not that Gannon could blame him; those things were a pain in the ass) and was definitely favoring his stronger leg. 

The man was also oddly dressed for the warm night, wearing a pair of jeans and combat boots and Gannon was positive the man would overheat in the long sleeved button down he was sporting over his white t-shirt, unbuttoned though it was. It wasn't until Jason got closer to the car that Gannon realized why he was wearing it. 

The man was packing. The shirt was just loose enough to hide the line of the shoulder holster. 

Gannon unlocked the car door and Jason slipped in. As he sat, he carefully angled his leg and sat back with a sigh. "Howdy, Detective." He sounded tired but shot a smartass grin his way. 

"Hey yourself." Gannon gestured to Jason's leg. "You're really favoring that leg right now. Sure you're up for walking around the streets tonight?" 

Jason shrugged easily. "I've got a collapsible cane on me if it gets really bad. Just gotta rest it a bit and not over do it." 

"What else have you got on you? Carrying a permit for that gun?"

The look Jason gave Gannon made it clear what the man thought of the question. "Sure," he replied, not really answering but the detective knew better than to push. Where they were going tonight, it'd be more stupid to not have extra backup if needed. 

"It's not Drake's, is it?"

Jason snorted. "No, it's not. I'm a lot things but dumb enough to borrow my boyfriend's service weapon without him knowing is not one of them." 

"Good. So here's what we're doing..." Gannon started explaining about the list of names and corners the Red Hood had given him and the Rookie the night before. Jason nodded along. 

"Those corners are mostly in Crime Alley," he said. "You sure you want to be leaving this thing parked there?" He gestured to the car.

"No choice," Gannon replied. "Only car I got. Not enough time to request an unmarked from the station."

Jason looked thoughtful for a moment, giving Gannon an assessing look. He then rattled off an address that he recognized as being in the Bowery. "We can swap cars there and you can leave this parked safely. It's a garage." 

It was Gannon's turn to look thoughtful. "I've got a good alarm. Upgraded it after the other night when my rims were stolen." 

"Doubtful, but it's your choice," came Jason's dry response. 

The new system had put him back a few hundred dollars already, not to mention what he’s going to have to shell out for the new rims. He didn’t trust Jason, not entirely, but his partner did. And that said a lot about Jason’s character, Bowery hoodlum or not. “Fine, just tell me where to turn.”

***** 

It wasn’t long before Gannon pulled up in front of the address Jason gave him. It was a decrepit looking building, like most in the Bowery, near the north side where the borough bordered Crime Alley. It looked like it was some sort of commercial space but as Jason promised, there was a garage door. He parked his Mustang. 

“Wait here a second, I’ll pull the car out and you can back in.” Jason got out and strode over to the door, punching something in the keypad. 

The door open, revealing a gaping black hole that Jason walked into confidently. While he waited, Gannon wondered yet again exactly what Jason was in the greater scheme of the power ladder that was this part of town. Tim said he was a reforming _something_ , that prolonged exposure to his family while he was laid up with his broken leg had mended or at least patched some long broken fences. But neither man would say what that _something_ was. Gannon had a feeling Jason was some kind of bruiser, but again, he was too smart to be just some hired thug. He carried himself confidently, even when limping, and his eyes...well, Gannon had seen some of the worst Bludhaven could throw at a man and Jason had the look of a survivor. Someone who’d looked hell in the face and didn’t back down. 

That would explain the shock of white hair falling across his forehead. If he ever got a chance to look close enough, Gannon was sure he’d see a scar from some kind of traumatic wound. 

From within the garage, headlights turned on and a beat up Impala pulled out; the same car Jason had brought to the car wash. He parked it along the street and waited. Gannon took that as his cue to carefully back his car in as per Jason’s instructions, though he wondered exactly what it was Jason didn’t want him to see if he pulled in normally. 

Something told him that if he came back here with a search warrant, the place would be completely clean. 

When the front of his car was clear of the garage door, Gannon put her in park and turned off the engine, flipping the headlights off as he did so. Getting out, he took an idle glance around as he closed the car door, locked it, and hit the alarm button on his key fob. It was dark, but he could just make out that the space was larger than it appeared from the outside. The only light came from the open garage door, illuminating his car, himself, and very little else. He could just make out what he thought was a workbench several feet behind the car, but that was it. 

Walking out of the garage, Jason was waiting for him at the keypad. Again, he entered something and the door closed. 

“Do I even want to know what you’re hiding in there?” Gannon asked, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the garage door. 

“No dead bodies and no drugs.” Jason slowly walked over to his waiting car. 

Good enough, Gannon supposed.

*****  

A couple hours later, Gannon decided Jason was a miracle worker. Man, the Rookie sure had been right about his partner knowing who and how to talk to the ladies working the rough streets of Crime Alley and the Bowery. They knew him, that quickly became apparent, but they also trusted him, many welcoming him like an old friend while giving him the stink-eye until Jason explained who he was and what he was here for. 

No wonder Drake counted many of the prostitutes in New Town as part of his group of irregulars. These ladies knew a hell of a lot, but that information came at a price. But with Jason greasing the way, all it was costing him were a few cups of coffee. 

They were sitting at a table of a greasy looking 24-hour diner, taking a break. Gannon had noticed Jason trying to hide his limp more and more, so he dragged the man inside and made him sit down. Jason didn’t complain, just sat with a _thump_ and started rubbing his thigh. Gannon couldn’t help watching the motion for a moment before he took his own seat. The man’s thighs were amazing and yet again he marveled that this gorgeous man was with his scrawny dork of a partner. 

He ordered himself a coffee when the tired looking waitress came by while Jason ordered an iced tea and a plate of chili fries. “May not look like it, but this place has some of the best chili in town,” the man said, responding to Gannon’s questioning look. 

“That so?” he replied. “I may have to steal some fries then.” 

“There’ll be plenty.” Jason shifted again and the light caught the man’s bluish green eyes. Such an odd color, but striking at the same time.

“So,” Gannon started, wrapping his hands around the coffee mug the waitress had placed in front of him. Time to lay on his own brand of charm. Here was the perfect excuse to try and get some information from Jason about him and Drake. “How exactly did you and Tim meet? He’s pretty private, as I’m sure you know already, but I hardly think the story is all that sordid.” He grinned. 

Jason shot him another assessing gaze as he took a sip of his iced tea. Setting it down, he gave a small smile. “Not sordid at all, actually. I’ve known Tim off and on for the last few years or so. First time I met him, he was lecturing a group of stupid punks about drugs. Most kids ignore the speech cops give them, but lil’ Timmy looked like he was actually getting through to a few of them. Never seen a cop do that before. We chatted a bit and I gave him my number in case he ever needed me for any…let’s call it _freelance_ work. I liked the guy. There was something about him that I knew was real. That he wasn’t faking it.” 

“You see a lot of false empathy growing up?” Gannon couldn’t help the question. 

“Of course I did,” Jason snorted. “I’m a Gotham street rat, Detective. Dad was in and out of jail for most of my younger years, eventually died there. Mom tried, but got sick and had a heroin addiction on top of that. I was in and out of the foster system for a while, then decided I could do better on my own on the streets. The social workers cared, but most of the foster parents I was with were shit.” 

“No system is ever perfect,” Gannon replied diplomatically. 

Jason gave a tired laugh and ran a hand through his mostly black hair. “Now there’s something we can fuckin’ agree on.” 

“Did you ever see yourself dating a cop?” 

“What is this, 20 questions?” Jason took another sip of his tea. “No, I didn’t. But Tim…he’s been good for me. More than he’ll ever know.” The man looked down at the glass, staring into the depths for a moment like the ice and liquid held the answers he was looking for. 

It was a more revealing answer than Gannon expected and he wisely chose to keep his mouth shut. The man across the table from him obviously cared very much for his partner, enough so that he was trying to change what looked like a lifetime of ingrained behaviors and actions. 

The chili fries came and both men tucked in rather than continuing the discussion. 

“Damn, this is good chili.” 

“Told ya.”

***** 

The night had to take a dive eventually. Not that it was going all that well, as the women they were talking to didn’t have the kind of connections that would go into the medical field. So far, only one did and her brother was on deployment with the National Guard in Afghanistan. While the ladies they were looking for were willing to talk to them after Jason laid down the charm, their pimps weren’t all that pleased to see two men walk up, chat a bit, then walk away without any money exchanging hands. Most of these men took one look at Jason’s glare, which was _impressive_ (Gannon hoped that glare was never directed him), and backed down. 

They were almost at the end of the list Red Hood had given Drake the night before when one pimp, a young greasy little man with a definite Napoleon complex, decided to get up in Gannon’s face. Jason was several feet away talking to another woman. 

“Whatchu think you’re doin’, huh? My girls ain’t paid by the hour, so you wants somethin’ from ‘em, you pay for it.” 

Gannon held his hands up in a calming gesture. “I don’t want any trouble here. I’m just trying to get some information.” The woman he was speaking with was backing away slowly, keeping a wary eye on her pimp. 

“Information ain’t cheap, blondie. You want it, you pay.” The man took a few steps closer to Gannon, close enough he could smell the man’s cheap cologne. 

“I’ve been doing just fine tonight as it is,” Gannon replied. “No need for trouble, my friend and I’ll just move along.” 

“You’re the one askin’ for trouble, comin’ down here to the Alley and askin’ questions. We don’t like cops here.” Quicker than Gannon expected, the young man pulled a switchblade and waved it in his face. “Maybe I should teach you a lesson, huh? Mark up that pretty face a yours?” 

Gannon was trained in self-defense and could easily handle the man waving the knife around, but he’d spotted the gun tucked into the man’s pants. Before he could do anything though, Jason was suddenly _there_. 

He grabbed the man by his throat and slammed him against the wall of the building, grabbing the wrist of the hand with the knife and slamming that hard as well. The man cried out in pain and dropped the knife. Jason dropped the arm and pulled a knife of his own from a hidden sheath under his shirt. A much bigger knife and damn if he didn’t look like he knew how to use it. 

“Look here, you little _shit_ ,” he growled, his voice taking on an edge and tone that made Gannon want to step back. “You fuck with the cops, the cops fuck with you. And guess what? There’s more of _them_ than there are of _you_. So fuck off and maybe I won’t have ta kick your ass from here to Tricorner, got it?” 

The pimp must have seen something in Jason’s eyes to back up what the man was saying as he looked absolutely _terrified_. He nodded quickly. 

“Good.” Jason kicked the knife the man dropped away and smoothly slid his knife back into his clothes before letting go of the man. He scampered away, looking back over his shoulder at Jason in terror until he rounded the corner and disappeared. 

Gannon let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Fuck me, but what the hell was all that about?” 

Jason took a deep breath and turned to face the detective. “Tim told me to keep an eye on ya tonight. Figured somethin’ like this could happen.” The tone was even and dry but there was a look about Jason that reminded Gannon of a caged tiger. Cool and calm on the outside, but ready to burst out in a fury of vicious action at a moment’s notice. And his voice…Jason’s voice had changed when he was threatening the pimp. Not just the tone, but the _way_ he spoke. That accent was all Gotham, the same accent he’d been hearing all night here on the streets of Crime Alley.  

The same way the Red Hood spoke last night. Gannon brushed that thought aside. The Red Hood was a dangerous vigilante and while Jason certainly was dangerous, he wasn't anywhere in the same league. Right? He didn't know the man well but would Drake have that kind of relationship with him if he knew? The Rookie was a lot of things but stupid wasn't one of them. That kid was hella smart, both street and brains. But Jason... _something_ about him was flashing warning signals and Gannon had been a cop for too long not to pay attention.  

He really hoped Drake knew what he was doing.  

Gannon decided to take a different route. "So...that was some knife you pulled. Kinda like a Crocodile Dundee moment." 

"A what?" Jason looked confused.  

"Crocodile Dundee. You know. _That's not a knife. This is a knife._ He pulls out this big Bowie knife on a punk ass with a switchblade like you did." 

The reference is obviously lost on Jason as he shook his head. "That a movie or somethin’? I never had cable or even TV really growing up. Tim's got a list of shit he says I need to watch." His accent was slowly changing back to what Gannon thought of as normal. 

"Shit, seriously?" Gannon asked in disbelief. "I thought everyone's seen that movie. Basic cable plays it all the time." 

"I'll look for it on Netflix." Jason shuffled his feet a bit, shifting his weight to balance more on his good leg.  

Gannon realized Jason had to have moved pretty fast to do what he did. "You've got a cane, you dork. Use it." 

Jason looked unimpressed but reached behind him and pulled the collapsible cane from where it was tucked into the waistband of his jeans and hidden by his shirt. A flick of his wrist and out it came. "Feel like a fucking tool." 

"Don't worry, you look like one too," Gannon said glibly and patted Jason companionably on the shoulder. He wondered what else the man was hiding beneath that shirt. "Now lets go. One more corner and we can call it a night."

***** 

Gannon glared out the window of Jason's car as they drove back to the garage to swap vehicles. The entire night was a bust information-wise. While the Red Hood had given them a bigger list of victims, none of them panned out to provide a viable candidate for Whitaker's murder. The only high point to the night was watching Jason kick that pimp's ass.  

Crime Alley was not an area often patrolled by New Town or Bowery cops. It was almost like a dead zone within Gotham proper. And yet, the streets were surprisingly calm. Yeah, he'd spotted at least a dozen drug deals going down and watched almost double that in prostitutes getting picked up, but out and out violence wasn't something he'd seen at all.  

If anything, he almost felt like the area was waiting for something. Or was that someone? Drake said last night that their sighting of the Red Hood was the first time he'd been seen in months. Perhaps word had spread from the Alley of Hood's return. 

"Hey, Jay. Got a question for you."

"Shoot."  

"You're from this area. The Red Hood...he really all the Rookie says about him?" He could feel Jason's questioning look though he never turned his attention away from the window and the dark cityscape beyond. 

"That depends," Jason replied carefully. "What's he say about him?"

"That he's got a hair trigger temper and a trigger finger to match. But more importantly, that he's not just some dumb thug in a mask. Says he's smart." Gannon shifted in the uncomfortable car seat and looked at Jason. "What's your take on the guy?" 

Jason looked surprised, like that hadn't been what he expected Gannon to ask. He shrugged. "He does what Batman won't do. You can't stop crime in its tracks. It's practically against human nature to not push the rules and boundaries defined by society. Red Hood works with that. He takes out the worst of the worst and keeps the rest from blowing up into a shit storm." 

That was not what Gannon expected to hear all. "You ever cross paths with him before?" 

A small smirk appeared on Jason's face as he turned a corner. "A few times." 

"I met him for the first time last night with Drake. I won't lie, that man scared me shitless. He's like walking violence contained and ready to burst at any second. And what do I do? I put my partner in harms way because I was too scared to stand my ground with him like I'm supposed to." Gannon shook his head slowly. That's been bothering him since last night. He hadn't even realized what he'd done until the Rookie pointed it out after Hood disappeared. 

"Sounds like Tim didn't tell me the full story of what happened last night." Jason gave Gannon a dark look. "And since he's in one piece, I won't need to kick your ass." 

Gannon sighed. "If something had, I'd let you." 

"Look, Detective, I'm not sure where you're going here, but Red Hood? Never done me wrong. He gets more shit than he deserves. He takes care of Crime Alley where no one else will. Is it perfect? Fuck no. But for us, it's good enough. If he's back, then there's nothing wrong with that. It's people like that pimp that need to be scared. If your nose is clean then you've nothing to worry about." Jason finished his little speech by pulling up in front of his garage and parking the car.  

Gannon opened his mouth but was interrupted by his cell ringing. He reached into his pocket and saw Drake's name on the screen. "Hey Rookie," he answered. "How's the high life?" 

"Just as god awful as I remember," Drake replied in a disgusted tone. "But it was worth it tonight. Sinclair fell right in line with our plan. I just got off the phone with Captain Pierce. He's getting our warrant and is pretty sure he can get it tonight." He finished in a smug voice.  

"That is awesome!" Gannon crowed. "Glad one of us had some luck tonight. Dead ends all around. I'm just finishing up with Jason, do you want to meet at the station?"

"Yeah, that's fine. I'm heading back to the Manor to change out of this monkey suit and I'll be on my way. Maybe 45 minutes at most." 

"I'll see you then." He disconnected the call. The Rookie's little revelation earlier that morning came back to mind as he thought about how casually he said he was heading back to _Wayne Manor_ to change clothes. The place had been his flipping home at one point. He turned to Jason who'd yet to get out of the car. "Do you know about Tim?" he asked. "His background I mean?"

A crooked smile appeared. "You mean do I know he's a former member of Gotham's fucking elite and can have Bruce Wayne at his beck and call in a heartbeat? Yeah, I know." 

"Oh," said Gannon. He didn't know why, but he felt disappointed that someone who Drake just started dating knew more about his past than he did.  

Jason unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the car door. "If it's any consolation, someone else told me. Tim didn't." He got out of the car and limped his way to the keypad. The cane lay folded up in the gap between the seat and center console.  

It did help. Gannon unbuckled and exited the car too. The whole night, dud that it was for his case, helped. He understood better now what Drake saw in Jason. The man was handsome as sin with muscles to match but there was a dry wit and keen mind behind those odd blue eyes of his. He'd been right the first time he met Jason. The man was much more than he seemed.  

And twice as dangerous.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do NOT read unless you've read Chapter 13 of the Cleansing. Unless you enjoy spoilers, then go right ahead.

_Takes place after the end of Chapter 13:_

Gannon sat across the table from Drake at the dingy diner in the Bowery. Next to him, happily working his way through a club sandwich and fries was their prize for the night – Barnaby Smythe, if that was even his real last name. He’d bet good money it was spelled Smith. The street artist was asking random questions between bites, which Drake would answer with an amused smile while tapping away on his tablet, likely putting together the abridged report for what actually happened tonight.

The abridged report. Gannon snorted softly as he took a sip of coffee. If what happened tonight ever made it into an official report, they could kiss this case, and likely their careers, goodbye.

It was nights like these that Gannon missed the 'Haven the most. Yeah, it was a shit town and corrupt as hell, but run-ins with the local nightlife were a rarity as no one trusted him either except for a handful of cops. Gannon had liked Nightwing, he really did. The man was only trying to help and it showed in the almost earnest way he behaved towards him and Amy. Grayson had said he’d a few encounters with him too. 

But Gotham? Gannon closed his eyes for a moment, making it look like he was resting his eyes, before opening them again to look at Drake. Gotham was just fucking crazy and it's driving him nuts seeing how nonchalant his partner was behaving about what happened earlier. Yeah, he'd gotten to meet Nightwing again, but the Red Hood had been with him. The Red Hood! And not only did Nightwing not seem to care about that, neither did Tim! He’d gone fucking _running_ across the goddamn rooftops with the Red Hood while Nightwing grabbed him and jumped off the roof like he was Peter Pan. All this night needed was a dose of pixie dust and it’d be complete.

“Detective Malloy?”

Gannon turned his attention to Barnaby. “Yeah?”

“Do you think I’ll have to testify in court?” The young man couldn’t be any older than the Rookie. He sounded nervous in a way Drake never did though. Cool as a cucumber that kid.

“Very likely, if we can find the man you saw.” He tried to sound reassuring and wasn’t sure how successful he was. His mind was all over the place tonight.

Drake seemed to pick up on it as he stepped in to help. “The moving van you remember seeing was a huge help,” he explained. “Now that we know what to look for, it’s going to make searching the traffic cameras that much easier to see where it goes next.”

“And maybe who gets out.” Barnaby nodded firmly as he went back to devouring his sandwich. The man was odd, but Gannon had come across stranger, that’s for certain.

“Exactly.” Drake shot a concerned look at Gannon, but he brushed it aside and focused on his coffee.

*****

An hour later, Gannon walked into his apartment, tossing his keys on the table by the front door and flipping a switch to turn on the light in his living room. He all but collapsed into his armchair and rubbed the heels of his hands over his eyes. He was tired, bone tired. It had been a long, but very productive day, but his mind was still going a mile a minute, so he knew it would be awhile before sleep would come.

He hadn’t said anything to Drake after they dropped Barnaby off and parted ways at the precinct where he’d left his car. They were going to have a _talk_ but Gannon knew he needed to get his thoughts in order first. If he didn’t, then Drake would easily evade him and turn the tables. His partner was tricky like that, which was disturbing in and of itself sometimes.

Tim Drake was unlike any other partner he’d ever worked with. A lot of his quirks Gannon let slide because the younger man was a scarily competent detective. He was also funny as hell sometimes, with a wry sense of humor Gannon could appreciate. But he was also extremely private and he often felt Drake knew more about him than he did about the other man. A fact that was driven home tonight with a few careless words from Nightwing.

_“Nice to see you working with Drake here. He needs someone steady to keep him in line.”_

How would Nightwing know that Drake needed someone steady to balance him out? Drake did, that was certain, especially after the little fiasco at the warehouse dock last night. But that comment made Gannon wonder just how often Drake had worked with the vigilantes in the past. He’d admitted that he had before, but this made it sound like it was more frequent if Nightwing could say something like that so easily.

Gannon sighed and got up to cross his small living room to the kitchen. He made a quick sandwich and grabbed a beer from the fridge before returning to his armchair.

Nightwing he could understand. Batgirl he could understand. Even the elusive Batman he got. But what disturbed Gannon the most was how comfortable Drake was around the Red Hood. He’d tried to hide it earlier on the roof while the two vigilantes gave them their news, but he’d let his guard down a bit by the time they were done interviewing Barnaby. It hadn’t escaped Gannon’s notice how easy Drake bantered with the two masked men.

Something suddenly occurred to Gannon, something that would explain so much if it were true. What if his partner _knew_ the identities of the vigilantes? Tim Drake was certainly smart enough to figure it out with the right clues. He’d been on the streets as a beat cop for five years and New Town, located as it was right up against Crime Alley, was certainly a spot where one could encounter the vigilantes on a regular basis.

But what if it was more than that? Drake had been a ward of Bruce Wayne once upon a time. Gannon remembered hearing somewhere that Bruce Wayne was a private funder of Batman. He didn’t know much about Wayne, but Drake implied the man was smarter than the tabloids gave him credit for (which he would have to be, the Rookie didn’t suffer idiots and fools at all). Was it through this connection that he could have figured things out?

Gannon took a swig of his beer as he stared blankly at the dark TV screen across from him, thoughts churning. It was a long shot, but damn, did it explain so much. But it also opened another line of inquiry. If Drake knew who these guys were under their masks, then he was purposefully withholding this information from the very police department he worked for. Was he an informant for the Bats? Gannon didn’t think so; they had so much more equipment and resources to fight crime with than the GCPD did. If anything, he’d be more effective if he worked with them rather than the police.

Drake was a detective for God’s sake, he should be arresting them for what they do, especially the Red Hood, murderer that he was. But even Gannon couldn’t deny the good they all did, even the Red Hood in his own twisted way. In a way, the man reminded Gannon of Jason. Circumstances led the man to make the choices he did, but he’s also trying hard to overcome those. Tim had said he’d been making progress with working things out with his family; Gannon fully suspected Tim was a driving force behind that.

What happened to the Red Hood that made him as dark and twisted as he was when he first appeared to what he was now? There had to have been some positive, driving influence there. Since Drake pointed out how the people in Crime Alley and the Bowery perceived Hood, Gannon paid a bit more attention to the stories he heard. Hood was perceived as more of a hero to the people of Crime Alley than Batman or any of the others were. It was like Jason said, the Red Hood did what Batman wouldn’t do. But it was exactly what Batman didn’t do that let him operate in this damn city. Batman didn’t kill. Red Hood did. He’d toned it down over the years; the last known (or suspected) killing was Black Mask. No one missed him, especially with Arkham’s revolving door.

Whatever it was, Drake was either choosing to overlook it or knew what he’d overcome.

If Drake did know who the vigilantes were, then it put both of them in a rather interesting and unique situation. On one hand, Gannon should be reporting all this to Captain Pierce, which would certainly open up an IA investigation. At the very least, Drake would be a suspended. At most, he’d be fired since Gannon knew there was no way he’d ever give up information like that. On the other hand, Drake was the best detective he’d ever worked with and he knew it wasn’t because of vigilante involvement. They’d been working together for months before Gannon even knew of the connection. The Gotham capes were known to work with the police, just like they were right now on this case.

Gannon was starting to see why the Rookie was so fond of his lists.

One thing was certain. Gannon knew he was right about Drake knowing more about the vigilantes than was socially acceptable at the GCPD. He was hiding it and doing it very well. So how did that sit with him? He got up from his chair and started pacing.

He hadn’t gotten very far when he heard a _tap_ on the glass of the window leading out to his fire escape. Gannon’s head whirled around and he reached for his gun where he’d left it on his countertop with his wallet. The _tap_ came again, almost like a knock, and Gannon strode across the apartment and pulled up the blinds quickly, making a point to be standing off to the side rather than directly in front of the window.

Nightwing was on his fire escape.

Gannon shook his head as he opened the window for the man to enter. The smooth glide of the movement didn’t escape his notice. The man’s body was a work of art and he’d have to be blind to not notice. Even straight men noticed. Despite his thoughts on what happened earlier, he knew that being held tightly by Nightwing as they went up and down from the roof was one of the best moments of his life and one he’d certainly be reliving in a more private setting later. “I hope you know that you’re interrupting a very serious discussion with myself right now about vigilantes and my partner.”

The masked man smiled. “Then perhaps you should have it with me instead. Makes you a bit less certifiable.”

“Everyone in this city is certifiable.” Gannon stalked across his living room and set the gun back on the counter.

“Ain’t that the truth?” Nightwing turned and closed the window, as well as pulled the blinds back down.

“So what brings you here?” Gannon asked, leaning against his counter and crossing his arms. He couldn’t help but feel a bit defensive at the unexpected visit, especially considering the line of his thoughts.

Nightwing had been looking around the small apartment, taking in the few personal touches, and turned his attention on Gannon. He kept his posture open and relaxed, which Gannon recognized as a tactic to get him to do the same. Not a chance in hell of that happening, even if he did have an appreciation of the man’s ass. “I wanted to speak with you privately about something that happened tonight.”

Gannon raised an eyebrow, a habit he’d had even before he’d met Drake. “There was a lot that happened tonight. Going to have to be more specific.”

“I don’t want you thinking that we’re trying to take over this case,” Nightwing said calmly. “There was a lot of information thrown at you two tonight and I realized afterwards that what I said about Batman searching the sound could potentially sound like the caped involvement the two of you are trying to avoid. This is your case and I’d hate to see it go to Central because of our involvement.”

“That’s all well and good, but shouldn’t you be delivering this little message to Drake? He’s your pal after all.” Gannon said it deliberately, watching Nightwing closely.

He didn’t disappoint as a chagrined look appeared briefly on the man’s face before his walls came back up. “I will admit that I’ve known Detective Drake for a long time,” Nightwing said. “But he’ll have to tell you the rest.”

Gannon couldn’t help the snort of amusement that escaped him. “Then I’ll be waiting a long fucking time for that.”

“Maybe the wait will be worth it?”

“That remains to be seen. I’m trying to decide if I should do the right thing and report all this,” Gannon gestured broadly with a hand, “to Captain Pierce and let the pieces fall where they may. But if I do that, then I could be destroying the career of the best detective I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with.”

Nightwing didn’t move, but he became very still at Gannon’s words. “Don’t,” he pleaded. “It would kill Tim if he couldn’t be a cop anymore. He loves it.” The man suddenly seemed to realize what he’d said as his mouth snapped shut quickly.

Gannon stepped away from the counter and unfolded his arms as a flood of understanding rushed through him. “You called him _Tim._ He knows, doesn’t he? Who you all are.”

The vigilante stood tall and didn’t back down from the approaching detective. “I’m not going to tell you that, Detective Malloy, and you know it.”

“I know,” Gannon agreed. “But it just explains so damn much. You treated him almost like a friend or even family earlier. You left him with the Red Hood and didn’t even bat an eye over it, even when I yelled at you about it.” He stopped just a few paces away from Nightwing. It surprised him momentarily when he realized he was just a bit taller than the other man. Not that it mattered, he could kick Gannon’s ass and have him on the floor before he could even blink if he wanted. Now there was a thought to savor later in the privacy of his bedroom.

“Talk to Drake about it,” Nightwing said, still standing his ground. “I’ve said what I came here to say and more besides. Just don’t say anything to your superiors. We’re only trying to help.”

“I know you are. But what about Red Hood? He’s the one who worries me the most. I could ignore all of this if he wasn’t in the equation. You all do good work, but him? He’s a killer, no matter what I keep hearing about how he’s reformed.” Gannon folded his arms again as he stared Nightwing down. This was the first time he ever really got a good look at the man’s face. He was handsome, even with the mask covering his eyes, and windblown black hair falling across his forehead in a messy tumble.

Nightwing chuckled and his posture relaxed a bit. “Leave Hood to us. We keep an eye on him. He’s also got a bit of a soft spot for Detective Drake.”

Gannon’s eyes narrowed. “I hope he knows Drake’s off the market then. He’s got a boyfriend and I don’t think he’d take kindly to someone poaching in his territory.”

Nightwing’s reaction was completely unexpected as his eyes widened behind his mask and his jaw dropped open. “Oh my God,” he gasped out before his mouth snapped shut again. “Oh that explains _so much_ ,” Gannon caught him mutter.

Something suddenly clicked for Gannon as well and he opened his mouth before he could stop himself. “Nightwing…please tell me that the Red Hood is not dating my partner. I’ve met Tim’s boyfriend. I like Jason, even if he is a bit sketchy and evasive and fucking scary with a knife and oh my God, I’m right. I need a shot, where’s my whiskey?” He turned and wandered into his kitchen, opening cabinets randomly as his brain tried to process what he’d just realized.

Nightwing was shaking his head, mouth slightly open in shock still as he trailed after the blonde detective. “Can I have one too?”

*****

One shot turned into two. Two turned into three. Three was turning into four as he poured almost the last of the whiskey into the shot glasses he dug out. Gannon could feel the liquor burning through his system and while he knew he could handle his liquor, he was starting to wonder how Nightwing was doing as the man was easily keeping pace with him. He was far enough gone that he wouldn't consider driving, let alone jump from a rooftop with nothing but a line to stop a free fall.

He swirled the mostly empty bottle in front of the masked man. "This is all I've got. One of these bottles usually lasts me all year."

A dark chuckle answered him. "I'll get you a new one." Nightwing shook his head and ran a gloved hand through his messy black hair. "I'm sorry, I don't normally drink like this."

"Yeah, well, it's not everyday you find out your little brother or whatever Hood is to you is dating a police detective." Gannon swirled the bottle again thoughtfully, watching the remaining liquid go back and forth. "Not everyday I find out my partner is either. What I can't believe is that Tim sent him with me back in July to go talk to a bunch of prostitutes. Said he could grease my way." He shook his head, remembering the conversations he’d had with the man. "I even asked him what he thought of the Red Hood that night when he was driving me around. Fuck, he must have been laughing at me the whole time."

Another chuckle from Nightwing. "I doubt it. He takes a great amount of pride in his work. If you asked and didn't sound like you thought the Red Hood was a complete bad guy, then he probably gave you an honest answer, at least as best he could without giving anything away."

Gannon thought back to what Jason had said about his parents, about going into the system and taking himself out of it. Somewhere in those years, something happened that obviously changed his life drastically. He wondered if he asked Nightwing if the man would tell him. He doubted it. But then he remembered what Jason had said when he’d met Tim. _“_ _There was something about him that I knew was real. That he wasn’t faking it…Tim…he’s been good for me. More than he’ll ever know.”_

He shook his head and felt his lips twitch into a wry smile. "I asked him if he had a permit for the gun he was carrying that night."

Nightwing laughed. "What'd he say?"

"He evaded the question. I then asked if the gun was Drake's. I knew he wouldn't be packing that night. He was out clubbing with the Wayne's that night and got what we needed to bring in Ross Sinclair."

The masked vigilante nodded thoughtfully. "I heard about that guy. What a piece of work."

Gannon let out a frustrated growl. "I just can't believe my partner is dating the Red Hood. Goddammit, I know his first name! I know what he looks like! I even have his phone number! Do you have any idea what kind of position this puts me in?" He slammed the bottle hard on the countertop.

"So what are you going to do?" It was a serious question and they both knew it.

He glared at Nightwing. "Not a goddamned thing. Even I can see the changes in the Red Hood since he hooked up with Tim. Whatever is going on with them, I'm going to wait until the Rookie finally comes out and tells me himself. Then, and only then, will I tell him exactly when I figured it out on my own. I'm a detective too dammit."

A thoughtful look appeared on Nightwing's face. "I like that idea. I think I might just borrow it. It’ll serve them right too.”

"So what exactly is Jason to you?" Gannon asked. He wasn't expecting an answer but the vigilante surprised him.

"He's my younger brother."

"No shit? You guys really are related?"

A small smile graced Nightwing's lips. "It's a bit complicated but we are. You don't know Jason's last name, do you?"

"No. They've been making a game out of not telling me and now I know why." Gannon gave Nightwing a thoughtful look. "It would give the whole thing away if I did, wouldn't it?"

Nightwing sighed and drummed his gloved fingers on the counter. He's been leaning on the other side since they started drinking. "It would. But I think...I think it would be okay if you knew." He looked up from his fingers to Gannon and smiled. Under different circumstances, Gannon thought his knees may have started trembling. It wasn’t a big smile or flashy, but it was honest, open in a way he’d never seen it before. "I can certainly think of worse people who do and through no fault of my own."

"Gee, that's reassuring." Gannon sighed loudly. "Well, I'll promise you this then. I won't go actively fishing for Jason's last name anymore. Just let the pieces fall as they may."

"Thanks, detective. When you do find out, you'll know how to find me." Another of those small smiles appeared on Nightwing's handsome face.

Gannon stared for a moment before the words really penetrated. "I know you, don't I? We've met outside the mask?"

The small smile widened into a grin. "You'll have to wait and see."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally made my decision about Malloy. And man, he's going to have FUN with this. Just how big is that hole Tim's digging for himself going to get? In all fairness, Malloy does understand why he's digging it. 
> 
> Next installment will be after Chapter 16 of the Cleansing is posted.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder on canon...Casebook takes place in an unknown future where Flashpoint never happened and New 52 and Rebirth never existed. If anyone has questions on this, feel free to leave me a comment. :)

_Don't read until after reading at least through Chapter 16 of the Cleansing._

Gannon got off his cell phone and stared at it for a moment before tossing it onto the passenger seat of his car. Drake had just called to inform him that the moving van they were searching for was heading into the complete opposite side of the city from where he’d been searching the entire morning. “Goddammit,” he swore and ran a hand through his blonde hair. “Waste of my fucking time.”

Driving back to New Town was going to take a while with the lunch rush in full swing. Which suited him just fine as he pondered his partner once again. Tim and Jason. Detective Drake and the Red Hood. A GCPD detective was dating the Red Hood. _His partner_ was dating the Red Hood. No matter how many times he said it, out loud or in his head, it still made no sense. But there was one thing he’d learned about the other man this morning. Two things actually.

First, Tim Drake was one of the best liars Gannon had ever met in his life. And he’d met quite a few, considering his line of work.

Second, and this one is more of a direct result of the first one, Drake was one of the best jugglers he’d ever seen. Not actual juggling, but everything the man had to keep track of in order to keep his stories straight was very impressive. Gannon supposed multitasking was probably a better word for it, but juggling made for a good metaphor.

What would happen when Drake dropped something? What would come spilling out?

It disturbed Gannon on multiple levels just how good a liar Drake was. But only when it came to the vigilantes. Thinking back on all the work the two of them have done together, it never even crossed his mind that Drake was hiding something from him. He was private, yes, but when goaded, he’d let something drop. He’d learned Drake was a nerd of the highest order and his skills with a computer made Gannon wonder early on why the kid wasn’t in the tech sector working at WayneTech or somewhere similar.

Drake was open and honest to a point, Gannon decided. And that point was the vigilantes. Besides Jason, what was his connection to them? Nightwing had hinted that he’d known Drake for a long time. Which led him to believe he’d known the rest of them for a while too. Including Jason when he’d been decapitating drug dealers and delivering heads in duffle bags to make a point. That was almost 9 years ago now if he was doing the math right.

The few times he’d met Jason, he’d liked the guy. He really did. But even then, he couldn’t ignore the feeling in his gut each time too. Gannon thought back to the first time he met Jason, back at the car wash in June where he was sitting on a bucket the whole time ogling Drake. He’d just had the cast taken off from a fractured femur. At that, Gannon makes another connection.

The night Black Mask was killed, the Red Hood disappeared for months after that, only to show up at a police sponsored car wash as soon as he was free to do so. Tim said he’d been in the care of his family for those few months. That they’d had a chance to mend some fences. Nightwing did say Jason was his little brother (he’d also said it was complicated).

Gannon knew he was on to something as he pulled into the parking lot at the back of the station and got out. He was still mulling over what Tim had said about Jason and his family, trying to work things out, when he entered the Homicide department just in time to see Driver and Simpson drag a ranting Black out of Interview One and into Captain Pierce’s office.

He spotted Sandy, the office assistant, and approached her. “What happened there?” he asked.

She shook her head in disbelief. “You won’t believe me if I told you,” she said, her brown ponytail bobbing back and forth. “Detective Black attacked Detective Drake right there at his desk. But Drake sent him flying and had him pinned before Black could do anything.”

Gannon felt his mouth drop open. “Holy shit, that fucker finally cracked?"

“Apparently,” a new voice chimed in and Gannon turned to see Josie MacDonald walking up. “Like a goddamned TV drama in here this afternoon.”

“I know!” Sandy exclaimed excitedly. “And to top it off, Jason Wayne was here too! He is so much better looking in person than in the pictures I’ve seen of him online.”

 _Jason Wayne_. Gannon felt the blood drain from his face even as his mouth opened again in shock, this time even wider from before. He’s not entirely sure what happened after that, but he found himself sitting in his usual chair in front of Drake’s desk staring blankly at the mess across what was usually a much more orderly desk.

_“Detective Black attacked Detective Drake right there at his desk…Jason Wayne was here too…”_

It fit. It fit all too well. A person would have had to be living under a rock not to hear at least something about Jason Wayne’s resurrection story a few years ago. The second son, long thought dead and buried, but somehow made it home _alive_. Jason Wayne was Bruce Wayne’s adopted son. His second son…Gannon bit his lip so hard he felt a hint of copper hit his tongue. Bruce Wayne’s first son was Dick Grayson.

Jason Wayne was the Red Hood. Which meant Dick Grayson, former circus brat and Bludhaven police officer, was Nightwing. And Bruce Wayne…

Before Gannon even thought it through, he pulled out his phone and tried calling Tim. It went to voicemail and instead of leaving a message he knew his partner would never listen to, he hung up and sent a text instead.

Gannon: _Where the fuck are you? Jason WAYNE???_

He sighed and brushed a tired hand across his face. Of everything that could possibly be happening today, this was the absolute last thing he needed.

“You okay there, Gannon?” Josie asked, concern readily apparent on her face. Her black braids were tumbling over her shoulder from the loose ponytail she had them pulled back in.

“Yes. No. I don’t fucking know,” he replied honestly and rubbed his face harder before sitting up straight and looking the MCU detective in the eye. “But I’m not moving from this desk until my partner comes back.”

“Might be awhile. He left rather quickly with Wayne after everything that happened with Black.”

“That’s just fine,” Gannon said and got up to walk around the desk and take Tim’s chair. The angle was all out of whack from the adjustments the man had been making to accommodate his back injury from last night, but he ignored it. “I have work to do.” He signed Drake off the computer and logged in through his own profile.

Josie gave him a worried look. “Marcus and I are going to grab a bite to eat really quick, then check in to see if Drake’s back yet. I’d like him to come with to the shelter later.”

Gannon waved a hand in her general direction, not really paying attention to what she said. “Sounds fine to me.”

“We’ll bring you something to eat.”

“Thanks.”

*****

It was late by the time Gannon walked through the door of his apartment. He resisted the urge to slam the door, knowing it would wake up his neighbors who all worked day jobs. They were used to him keeping odd hours, but every one of them liked him, saying they felt safer with a cop on the same floor. He wasn’t about to disabuse them of that even after he’d had the day from _hell_.

If he’d thought Tim Drake was a consummate liar before, then after his performance this afternoon, Gannon thought the man might be able to lie to God himself and get away with it. He’d watched Drake fidget, deflect, and distract while answering and yet not answering his questions. Gannon had decided as they pulled up to the moving company depot that Tim’s true talent was evasion.

What had been truth and what had been lies? Gannon knew what the papers reported about Jason Wayne and his miraculous return to Gotham and Tim didn’t really expand more upon that. He seemed almost _flustered_ when he’d brought up Jason’s garage. It amazed Gannon that his partner hadn’t known about it. That was the only sign he had that he managed to trip Tim up at all. It gave him a small amount of satisfaction considering how wily his partner was turning out to be.

He tugged his tie off and started unbuttoning his dress shirt. A shower sounded fantastic right now and he left a trail of clothes behind him as he marched through his apartment to his bedroom and the single bathroom. Gannon turned on the shower and caught his reflection in the mirror. He leaned on the counter in front of the sink for a moment, taking it in. There were bags under his eyes that looked a bit darker than usual; he hadn’t been sleeping much since being handed this case a few days ago. Gannon ran a hand over his angular face, fingers brushing against dark blonde stubble as he did. He looked tired. Worn out. His brain helpfully supplied adjectives until he rolled his eyes and stepped into the now warm shower.

God, all he wanted was to go to sleep. But he couldn’t. Not yet. Not until he heard from Tim if Batman (his mind danced away from the other name that popped up) was going to help. What the everloving fuck had he been thinking to suggest _that?_ He slammed his fist into the cool tile of the shower. He hadn’t been, that’s what. There was enough circumstantial evidence they could easily get a regular search warrant. But no, Drake wanted the sneak and peak and they needed more than just circumstantial evidence for that.

 _So you suggested a way around that_ a voice that sounded suspiciously like Jason’s whispered in his mind. _You wanted to see just how far he would go._

Gannon pounded his fist against the tile again before grabbing his soap to start washing up. Yes, he did want to know just how far Tim would go. He hadn’t looked happy at the prospect of calling Bruce ( _Batman_ ) and came back from the call looking even more subdued. There was history there, long history and some kind of hurt if he knew his partner’s tells at all. Did he? He liked to think he did, at least up until last night.

Last night…Nightwing. Dick Grayson was Nightwing. His former partner was a vigilante. Knowing this explained so much actually, especially why Grayson left the force when he did. Gannon was willing to put money on Amy knowing. She was sharp as hell and had been Grayson’s first partner when he came to the BPD. She was in Gotham now, having moved here after the Crisis with her family. The GCPD welcomed them both with open arms.

He wondered if he should give her a call and test the waters on that one.

Gannon hung his head under the hot water of his shower, letting it flow down the back of his neck and over his broad shoulders. One thing that was going to stop right now was his objectification of Nightwing. It was easy when he didn’t know who was under the mask to make him the subject of some of his fantasies, but now that he did, it was going to stop. He shuddered and, for a brief moment, felt a bit ashamed of himself. Dick Grayson had been his partner and did not deserve that (though how he missed catching on to those two asses being the same, he didn’t know).

Shaking his head, Gannon turned off the water. He toweled off and slipped on a pair of pajama pants and an old t-shirt. If he was going to wait up, he was going to be comfortable doing so.

Deciding he was sick of sandwiches, Gannon pulled a few things out of his fridge to start making spaghetti. He’d just turned the heat on the stovetop to simmer when he heard a now familiar _tap_ on his living room window. He turned and glared at it. The last thing he wanted tonight was a visitor and Nightwing to boot. The _tap_ came again and Gannon grabbed his semi-automatic from the countertop (because this was still _Gotham_ ), crossed the small living room, and yanked up the blinds, making sure he was standing off to the side as he did so.

Nightwing was crouched on his fire escape, carrying what looked like a small backpack? Gannon unlocked the window and stepped back, letting the vigilante open it himself and slide in. He stalked back across the room to set his gun back on the counter and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring all the while. “What the hell are you doing here again?”

His former partner slid the backpack off his shoulders and, making sure his hands stayed in plain view, started opening it. “I wanted to replace the whiskey we finished off last night,” he said smoothly.

It suddenly dawned on Gannon that Nightwing didn’t know he knew. He didn’t _know_ what had happened at the station earlier today. He didn’t know that Jason had completely blown their secret identities just by coming to pick up Drake for lunch. It was mind boggling how much power Gannon suddenly realized he had. He knew the identities of Nightwing, the Red Hood, and Batman. If this really was a family business, then Batgirl and Robin were pretty easy to figure out too. Fuck, that meant Tim had dated Batgirl back when she was _Robin_.

Just as quickly though, the power rush left him. Despite his reservations about the Red Hood, the rest of Gotham’s vigilantes did not cross the same lines. He knew they were only trying to help and this city was still just as fucked up as it ever was before. The GCPD was stronger though under Jim Gordon and even Gannon knew the Bats had a hand in that. Nightwing, for all the troubles he’d encountered in Bludhaven and the fiasco with Redhorn and Blockbuster, did good work. For that alone, he deserved Malloy’s silence.

But damn, did he want to make the man _squirm_. If he couldn’t come out and directly say anything to Drake yet, he was going to enjoy the hell out of putting Nightwing over the proverbial coals. The real question was, did he want to tell Dick he knew he was Nightwing?

“Better be Irish,” Gannon said as he went back to the kitchen to check on his sauce. “That’s the only kind of whiskey allowed in this place.” He’d told that to Grayson once, what felt like forever ago now.

“I figured as much.” Nightwing took a bottle of aged Irish whiskey out of the backpack and set it on the counter so Gannon could see the label.

He let out a low whistle. “That had to set you back a pretty penny.” This was the really good stuff.

Nightwing shrugged. “After last night, I thought an indulgence would be appropriate.”

Gannon picked up the bottle, looking at it a bit nostalgically. “I haven’t had this particular maker since I left the ‘Haven. Left a half empty bottle in our apartment when the city was evacuated.” That 24 hours easily went down as the worst time of his life. He’d lost everything. His sister and her two kids, her husband, his longtime _partner_ , friends, his home, not to mention his _entire city_.

“Our apartment?” Nightwing asked quietly.

Setting the bottle down, Gannon turned to his sink and picked up the two shot glasses from the night before out of the drying rack. He’d had time to do dishes this morning before he ran out the door. “My partner, Marshall,” he replied solemnly. “He was a lawyer. Was actually in court right there in downtown when Chemo fell. Didn’t stand a fucking chance.” He set the glasses down with a loud _thunk_ and gave the vigilante a level look. “You brought me this bottle, not knowing what it meant to me. It was his favorite too. The least you can do is have a shot for his memory.”

Nightwing looked uncertain for a moment before his features firmed and he nodded. “Just one.”

Gannon reached into a drawer to bring out a bottle opener. “I don’t need to get shit faced two nights in a row. We’re going out to search a house tomorrow morning.” He deftly broke the seal and uncorked the bottle with a _pop_.

“Yeah? Which doctor? There’re two you have your eyes on, right?”

“Schumacher,” he gave the masked man an amused look and poured a generous dollop of whiskey into each glass. It was hard to think of him as Dick when he was dressed like Nightwing. “Didn’t read the updates to our files yet today?”

Nightwing chuckled as he picked up his glass in a gloved hand, one bright blue finger-stripe curling around the bottom of the glass, ring finger and pinky tucked back. “All appearances to the contrary, only Batman does that regularly. He tries not to interfere with cases that are assigned to _good_ detectives.”

Gannon snorted as he picked up his glass and took an appreciative sniff as he ran the glass under his nostrils. The whiskey smelled as good as he remembered. “Not sure if that’s a compliment to me or to my partner,” he replied wryly.

“Both of you,” Nightwing returned. “If you don’t see him poking around at all, then he thinks you can do your job.”

“Then this case is just special?”

“Blame Drake for that. He’s the one who dragged his boyfriend in to help gather information after all.” Nightwing’s lips twisted in a sardonic smirk.

“Don’t think I haven’t forgotten.” Gannon raised his glass in a toast. “To Marshall.”

“To Bludhaven.” Nightwing raised his glass to return the toast and the two men drank.

The whiskey burned in a familiar and painful way, though Gannon knew the pain was more from memory than an actual burn. It had been just over eight years since Bludhaven was destroyed. Most of the city was a radioactive wasteland, even with all the cleanup efforts from the government and the Justice League. Gannon knew he was one of the lucky ones, having been out of town checking on a lead in a case, in Gotham ironically enough. He’d actually been on the southbound highway out of town and had a prime seat for the explosion that destroyed his world.

“Had a talk with Tim this afternoon,” Gannon said leadingly, looking into his empty glass. He was tempted to have another, but knew he shouldn’t.

“Oh? How’d that go?” Nightwing stayed relaxed, but there was an alertness to him now. The man was being careful to not slip up anymore than he had last night. Gannon couldn’t blame him for that.

“The man is the best damn liar I have ever met.” He lifted his gaze to the vigilante leaning on his kitchen counter. “But he only lies when it concerns you guys. That was quite the tale he spun today and I’m positive some parts of it are true and others aren’t but I’m not sure where the line is.”

“What do you want to know? Depending on what it is, I may or may not be able to tell you.”

That was more generous than Gannon expected and he ran with it. “Was Jason really Robin? Tim said he thought Jason was the second Robin. Or rather, that the Red Hood was the second Robin. That something happened to him…” he trailed off.

Nightwing’s mouth tightened and his fingers clenched tightly into a fist before he forced them to relax. “Jason was Robin,” he said quietly, looking at the countertop instead of at Gannon. “He replaced me when I became Nightwing. I was…angry about being replaced and I know I treated him unfairly. But when he died, I was more angry at myself for not being the brother to him that I should have been. We still don’t know exactly how he came back. He was _dead_.” His fist tightened into another fist and Nightwing raised his masked eyes to Gannon. “He was _dead_. Autopsied and everything. There was no doubt it was him. But, from what he’s told us over the years, here and there, is that he woke up one day, in his coffin, _alive_.”

Gannon’s breath caught in his chest and he could feel his mouth hanging open. “Oh, dear God in heaven…” he said quietly.

The other man continued. “Jason dug his way out of his own grave. The details are a bit sketchy here for a while, but he was eventually taken in by one of Batman’s archenemies, Ra’s al’Ghul and his daughter.”

“The eco-terrorist?” Gannon had heard of him, but not for quite some time.

“Yeah, the same,” Nightwing paused and took a deep breath. “I can’t go into all the details, but they did something to Jason. Something that brought his mind back to him and healed all his wounds. But it came at a terrible price and Jason kind of lost his shit there for a while. There was a rage in him, and after he came back to Gotham even more dangerous than he was when he left it, he took his revenge on us. On Batman really. Because he didn’t do the one thing Jason thought he’d do after he’d been killed.”

“And what was that?”

“Kill the man who killed him.”

The words hit Gannon like a punch in the throat. “That’s why Red Hood was so…violent when he first came back. I read up on some of his crimes when I first transferred to Gotham permanently. That was quite the mark he left. Those beheadings…” he trailed off, not entirely sure he should have said that.

“Yes.” Nightwing nodded and grimaced. “But the rage from what was done to him disappeared a couple years after he came back to Gotham and now he’s trying to make his way the best he can. He still believes in killing but is a hell of a lot more discriminate about it now.”

“The worst of the worst,” Gannon muttered, remembering Black Mask and that pedophile case.

“Yeah, and that’s where he and Batman will probably forever disagree. We _don’t kill_.” Again, the fists tightened. Nightwing’s knuckles had to be aching by now.

“And now, here he is partnered with a man who has a different set of morals.” Gannon shook his head in disbelief. “Tim’s a Gotham cop, no matter what kind of background he has with you guys. He’s pulled his gun before, even if he’s never taken a shot.” That much he knew from the Rookie to be true.

That earned him a fist being slammed into his countertop so hard that his cabinets rattled. “I _know_ ,” Nightwing growled out, obviously upset at something Gannon didn’t know about. “God, I know. If Tim ever gives it all up for Jason, crosses that line for _him_ , I think it would destroy B-Batman.”

Gannon ignored the slip. “Or we could be witnessing the rise of the most terrifying power-couple ever to hit these streets.”

A dark laugh escaped Nightwing at that. “You have no idea.”

Throughout the entire course of the conversation, Gannon’s been tossing the idea back and forth on whether or not he should tell Nightwing just what he knew. The man in front of him seemed almost defeated at the turn their conversation had taken. He got the distinct impression Nightwing wanted to say more, but couldn’t because of the mask. The big secret that wasn’t really a secret anymore.

Gannon took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I think I do, Dick. I think I do.”

Nightwing stiffened at Gannon’s use of his name and let out a gusty sigh as he stood up straight. His hands gripped the edge of the counter. “How long have you known?”

“I figured it out this afternoon. Jason _Wayne_ came to pick up his boyfriend for lunch. Amongst other things. I didn’t see him, but I heard about it later when I got back.”

“Then…then you’ve figured out everything?” It’s a loaded question and they both know it.

“I’m trying to avoid making certain connections,” Gannon said dryly, his lips twisting into a crooked smirk. “So please don’t confirm anything for me. Gotta try and maintain a semblance of deniable plausibility here.”

Nightwing chuckled wryly. “Tim says that all the time. That’s why he hasn’t set foot in the Batcave for the last six years.” His hands leave the countertop and make their way to his face. Slowly, carefully, the mask is peeled away and Gannon meets Dick’s incredible blue eyes for the first time in years.

“At least there’s one smart thing he’s done. And what the hell, Dick? Do you want me to figure it all out?” he asked his former partner in exasperation.

“You should have figured it out a long time ago, blondie,” Dick dished right back.

“Don’t remind me,” Gannon mock groaned into his hands. “How I did not realize the two best asses I’ve ever seen belonged to the same man, I will never know.”

“To be fair, I didn’t wear skin tight clothing to work.”

“Probably saved my relationship with that little bit of thoughtfulness.” Gannon turned and reached into a cupboard to grab his spaghetti. “Hungry?” He shook the box a little.

“Always. Do you have any idea how many calories I burn each night?” Dick took a seat on a barstool while Gannon checked his sauce again and started a pot of water for cooking the pasta.

Gannon cooked and Dick talked. He told him about why he’d left Bludhaven when he did and what really happened with Blockbuster. How he’d reached his rock bottom and picked his way back up. He also spoke about his relationship with Tim, about how he thought he’d been given a second chance to make it right with him after his perceived screw up with Jason. It was…nice, Gannon decided. He’d always liked Dick when they worked together, and his partnership with Tim gave them something in common now.

They talked for what felt like hours. And when Dick finally put his mask back on and slipped out his window, Gannon checked his phone and realized he hadn’t heard from his partner yet about Batman. Of all the things he and Dick could have discussed, the World’s Greatest Detective was not one of them.

He started texting Drake about it. And waited. And waited. Until finally, a couple hours later, his phone rang. “Where the hell have you been?” Gannon practically shouted. “Jason had better have been showing you the time of your life for the past few hours as that’s the _only_ excuse I’m buying from you…”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End? For now at least. I'm still toying with the idea for a part 4 to tie into the epilogue of the Cleansing. We'll see.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? :D


End file.
